THIS ABOVE ALL
Chatwal should have opted out
Khushwant Singh

I abstained from commenting on the government’s decision to confer the Padma Bhushan on Sant Singh Chatwal because I was not fully aware of his shady past. I was also biased against him as I am allergic towards self-promoters and name-droppers. Seeing all the hungama created by Indian newspapers, I thought he would offer to withdraw his name from the list of awardees.

In a similar case a few years ago, Bhai Mohan Singh, founder of Ranbaxy, the largest pharmaceutical company in India, opted out of receiving the award because of the media raising the issue of his ousting a fellow-founder of the company. But Chatwal appears to have no sense of shame; he has the hide of an armadillo.

More than his habit of name-dropping, what I find more unsavoury is his lack of sophistication and vulgar display of wealth. A couple of years ago he celebrated the marriage of his son in Mumbai. Many invitees were flown in by air, and several floors of five-star hotels were booked to accommodate them. Huge receptions were given to thousands of guests. He tried to make it the grandest wedding anyone had seen.

His son evidently takes after him. He is a mousy-looking sardar who fancied himself as a filmstar. He soon discovered that in Bollywood you can’t bribe your way to stardom. His marriage also did not work. His wife and child are back in her parents’ home in Delhi. Earlier this year, Sant Singh Chatwal went on pilgrimage to Hazoor Sahib gurdwara in Nanded (Maharashtra). He flew in by a chartered plane. The granthis honoured him with a siropa. It is a sorry tale of a man with no principles but vaulting ambition.

The two pleasantest months of the year in northern India are February and October. They operate in opposite directions but, nevertheless, have much in common. By February, the winter begins of loosen its grip, and fog, mist and chilly winds become a memory of the past. Instead, we have pleasant cool breezes. The sky is clear blue and the sun warmer.

It is the other way round in October. The scorching heat followed by heavy monsoon rains fade away into the past. The sky is once again clear blue, the sun less hot and signs of the autumn to come can be seen everywhere. More people can be seen in parks and gardens enjoying the fair weather than at other times of the year.

There are other natural phenomena in evidence during these two months that deserve notice. Lie flat on a lawn and fix your gaze skywards. In February you may see flocks of geese or ducks flying in wavering arrow-head formulations, calling to each other, flying out of India towards their summer abodes in Central Asia.

In October you will see similar V-shaped flight of geese or ducks coming in the reverse direction from Central Asia to spend their winters on Indian lakes, rivers and marsh lands. If you are lucky, you might see a lone cuckoo overhead, calling kooh-koo as it flies from the plains to the hills in February, and as it flies back in October to spend its winter in the plains. So far no one has been able to fathom how these birds manage to find their way the same time of the year, and to the same spots they had been visiting year after year. I am filled with awe and wonder. All I can say is that in February and October, I feel life is more worth living than in other 10 months of the year.

A few months ago, the then Japanese Prime Minister Mori was given some basic English conversation training before he visited Washington and met President Obama. The instructor told him: " When you shake hands with President Obama, say ‘how are you?’ President Obama will say ‘I am fine, and you?’ Then you should say ‘Me too.’ Then we translators will take over.

When Prime Minister Mori actually met Obama, he mistakenly said: " Who are you?" President Obama was taken aback but managed to react with humour: "Well, I am Michelle’s husband, ha ha." Mori replied: "Me too, ha, ha."

There was this west Pakistani jeep driver who screeched to a halt on seeing a road sign in Baluchistan. The corporal with him asked: "Kyun, kya hua?" "Major sahib aagey ja rahe hain." "Major sahib? Kaise malum hua? Kaun Major sahib?" "Yeh signboard padho," and he pointed to a signboard. It said: "Major Road ahead."

(Contributed by Gauravjit Singh, New Delhi)